


Twenty Questions

by Austenfanficgal



Series: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You [3]
Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Acronyms, Corner Cafe, F/M, Fake Dating, Fight Club - Freeform, Game of Thrones - Freeform, Pretend Relationship, She really likes me, Sixteen candles - Freeform, Surprise Makeout, Twenty questions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, closet rebel, dine and dash, dirty words, favorite movie, i know things, multiple POVs, passing notes, so many new fantasies, studying then not studying, these are the new bases
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23456095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Austenfanficgal/pseuds/Austenfanficgal
Summary: As a way to get to know one another better, Peter and Lara Jean engage in a classic game of twenty questions. The first one starts casually in a note, but each question and subsequent answer reveals more and more about each of them and through the exchange their intimacy and attraction grow.
Relationships: Peter Kavinsky & Lara Jean Song-Covey, Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey
Series: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685638
Comments: 41
Kudos: 196





	1. Question One

**Author's Note:**

> Installment number 3 in the Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You series! There will be a chapter for each question, so twenty in total. These are not all written yet. I’m just dropping them as I find both inspiration and time, so there won’t be a specific update schedule. The POV will vary as will the length. 
> 
> Rated M for future chapters. 
> 
> Took inspiration from my own games of 20 questions as well as this article: https://www.elitedaily.com/p/20-deep-questions-to-ask-your-crush-during-a-game-of-20-questions-2930739

It had started with a note he passed her after third period American History. 

Best movie ever? And GO!!!

Best movie ever? Well, she felt like they had already had this conversation. I mean Sixteen Candles was a total classic. They wrote it into the contract. And clearly, PK was Jake Ryan reincarnated. Was this some kind of test? Was she supposed to choose Fight Club? She knew that was easily in his top three. 

She scribbled down Sixteen Candles with an asterisk next to it and wrote in itty bitty print at the bottom that they would definitely have to “DISCUSS THIS LATER!” then shoved the note in her back pocket...for safe keeping or for him to find on his own, she hadn’t decided yet. 

————

He was leaning casually against her locker after Brit Lit, chatting with Greg and Trevor, his hands waving animatedly as they guffawed at whatever story he was telling. Thinking she could catch him by surprise, she sidled up to him and tapped him on the left shoulder, a small smile on her face at the mini victory of going unnoticed—he always anticipated her appearance lately and got the first word in. 

“Hey you,” she softly greeted, hoping that she sounded casual, but also demure and a little alluring. 

“Hey Covey,” he responded immediately and turned to her with a big grin, his tone warm and his features bright. “Settle a debate for me: Fight Club—best movie EVER right?!” So it had been a test of sorts. “The guys and I have been going rounds on this since Johnson’s class. Greg insists it’s Die Hard, but I knew you’d have my back.” He looked at her expectantly and she couldn’t completely burst his bubble. 

“Well, action isn’t exactly my genre, but of all the action movies I’ve seen”—just Fight Club, she’d only seen Fight Club—“I’d say Fight Club is my favorite.” So, not technically a lie. 

“That’s my girl,” Peter gloated and draped his left arm around her shoulders as they moved off the lockers and started down the hallway toward the cafeteria. 

“Largie you are killin’ me right now,” Greg said as emphatically as he could and rubbed his hand over his face to reinforce the point. 

“Kavinsky has clearly brainwashed you Lara Jean. Die Hard is unbeatable. It’s a Christmas movie where they blow shit up! No contest.” And with that Trevor shook his head and waved his hands as if to say ‘I’m done!’

“Guys guys, the lady has spoken and she is clearly smarter than all three of us combined, so I’d say the ruling’s final.” He said it jovially but with authority, like there was no point contesting the subject further. The king had spoken and thus it was. Sometimes she really did wonder how she’d ended up attached to the “king of the cafeteria”—-oh yeah, the letters and the kissing, and Gen and Josh, and the contract. He looked down at her now and gave a wink like they’d pulled one over on his friends, and if she thought about it, she guessed they sort of had. At that she grinned too. It was easy to feel carefree with Peter. 

When they entered the cafeteria, they swapped sides so he could let her order first. Sometimes he really was a gentleman and while it should come as a surprise to her, it also really suited him. After paying for their shared tray—he insisted as usual—he finally stuck his palm into her back pocket and felt the note tucked securely in place. 

“You are such a sneak Covey!” She loved when he called her that. “Is this for me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and opened up the small folded scrap of paper. 

“Maybe,” she responded in the same teasing tone. 

“I KNEW you were gonna pick that candles movie; I just knew it!”

“And I KNEW,” she mimicked his emphasis on the word, “that you would choose Fight Club.” She poked him in the chest to send the point home further and they both plopped down onto the bench. 

His voice shifted to a stage whisper then and he leaned in closer putting his left hand around her waist and pulling her towards his legs which were draped on either side of the bench. “Well we did write them into the contract for a reason.” His right shoulder shrugged a little and he pursued his lips, a boyish expression on his face. “But I can see that you’d like to ‘discuss this further’”—his face switched to mock seriousness now and his voice dropped an octave, and even though she smirked back at him she couldn’t pretend like she wouldn’t be replaying those low whispered tones later on tonight while she was alone in her room reading her novel and drifting off into dreamland—“so lay it on me Covey. What are your arguments?” 

He sat back now and straightened his shoulders grabbing a fry off his plate absentmindedly and popping it in between his full lips. 

Her eyes were drawn to his mouth by the action, so she quickly reached for her own fry hoping to conceal the slip up and took a moment to refocus her thoughts. 

“Well, there was no specification as to genre for one. And clearly there are different criteria to consider between drama, comedy, and romance. And that doesn’t even account for the stylistic differences across different time periods. I mean, I can’t deny the classics like Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Casablanca, but they really don’t fall into the same category as Dirty Dancing or Sixteen Candles. And we both know that anything within the last five years is completely irrelevant and not even worth mentioning.” 

At this comment he finally jumped back into the conversation. “Well of course,” he echoed matter of factly. “I see that you didn’t even include an option for action or adventure films.” He was mocking her a bit with his formal tone, clearly trying to rile her up. 

She gave him a bemused look at that. “Well no, as I don’t feel those films stand the test of time. Special effects change with technology, and interest in fantasy or science fiction waxes and wanes with cultural preferences. Drama and romance, and even comedy to an extent, are about people and relationships and the human spirit, and those things never truly change. Their outward appearances morph with time, but the true heart of the plot and the conflicts these characters face are everlasting.”

He was studying her now. While she’d been speaking, something in his face, in the tone of their conversation had shifted. Suddenly it wasn’t just “pick your favorite movie.” It was so much more than that. She was revealing a piece of herself, her soul. And for all the superficial aspects of Peter’s personality—the carousing and flirtation and showmanship—he seemed to truly be listening in this moment. Really trying to see her and understand her point of view. It was like the room had narrowed and the chaos of the cafeteria was just a gentle hum in the background. The white noise to their tête-à-tête.

Then he broke into a huge grin.

“Yeah, but Long Duck Dong?!” He grabbed up another fry and pointed it at her. “How can you justify that one?” 

She laughed heartily and reached for her own French fry.

“Alright. Fair point.”

And it was.


	2. Question Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question Two brought to you courtesy of LJ with a PK POV. This time we find our fav couple at the Corner Cafe indulging in milkshakes and Cherry Coke and swapping memories.
> 
> Happy Reading!

“Have you ever dined and dashed?” She asked it conspiratorially, a wicked grin on her face, and he almost choked on his chocolate shake. 

“You cannot be serious, Covey?!” He gripped his milkshake on the table and leaned in towards her. “What kind of deviant do you take me for Lara Jean? No, I have not dined and dashed! Have you?”

“Yes,” she whispered and scrunched up her nose in the most adorable way. 

“What?!” He almost shouted, her admission catching him off guard. She gave an innocent little shrug in reply. Would this girl never stop surprising him? Every time he thought he’d figured her out, she’d do or say something else to flip his preconceived notions on their head. Lara Jean Covey was a closet rebel, and he could not love her more for it. 

“Keep your voice down, Peter.” She did the classic ‘down low’ move and leaned further across the table towards him. Never missing an opportunity to invade her space, he leaned in too until they were a few inches apart—like this setup wasn’t more suspicious. Heh. 

“So, this one time…”

“At band camp…” he interrupted her. 

“What?” She asked quizzically. 

He shook his head and smiled, “I had to, sorry. Do continue.” And he gestured for her to resume. 

“Well, this one time, Margot and Josh and I were getting takeout at Senor Picante’s Tacos over on 6th”—she was giddy like a little girl, like she was desperate to spill the punchline of the joke and couldn’t hold it in any longer. “And Margot placed the order and then went to bathroom because she really, really had to pee—like emergency levels—and Josh went to grab our sodas from the fountain, so I went to get condiments and then we were going to meet up at the counter to pay for everything and collect the food, but I got distracted because they had a new kind of hot sauce and it wasn’t the same color packaging as the old one..” He always knew she was extra excited when she rambled and her words came out in one breath.

“Were you looking for the green kind?” He jumped in again. Senor Picante’s was the best taco spot on this side of town and no beef burrito was complete without their special green sauce. 

“Yes!” She lit up when she said it. 

“Yeah, you gotta get the green stuff.” He echoed. 

“Exactly,” she began again, “well, they didn’t have it. Only orange. And I didn’t want to get the wrong kind and waste perfectly good tacos, so I opened up a packet and tried it.” She had this look of victory on her face, like she couldn’t believe what a little daredevil she’d been, trying hot sauce at the taco joint. He loved it! Lara Jean Covey, his fearless little bae. He flashed her his patented Peter Kavinsky smile, so she'd know he was proud of her and eating up all of her little facial expressions and animations. 

“And? Don’t leave me hanging, Covey! Did you survive?” He cocked an eyebrow to show his curiosity and she immediately hung her head and replied matter of factly, “I did not.” And then she was grinning like a fool too. “So what did you do girl?” He prodded her with his finger this time and her face brightened immediately and she was waving her hands around in a tamped down performance of her initial panic. 

“And then Josh came over and practically threw the soda in my face and I gulped and gulped and it sloshed over the sides of the cup and my whole neck was sticky from the sugar.” God, that was a visual that would stay with him. Her, damp and sticky, probably brushing her fingertips over her neck and chest trying to wipe up the mess. He’d lost her words for a minute there just frozen on the image.

“And then we just bolted. We ran out of there as fast as we could, and Margot saw us fleeing and hurried after us, and we were practically rolling when we reached the car, so we just piled in, and she kept asking us what was so funny, but we couldn’t get the words out, so she finally just pulled out of the parking lot, and when we were halfway home, she asked where the food was, and we realized we’d left it at the restaurant.” 

She covered her face with her hands when she was finally done, like she still couldn’t believe how ridiculous they’d all been. He had to admit he didn’t love the visual of Sanderson dumping 7-Up all over his girlfriend - pretend or not. He hated that that hipster douche had so many memories with her, so many inside jokes, so many ‘firsts’ as she put it. He knew it was irrational. Heck, they were doing this whole fake dating thing so she could prove to Sanderson that she didn’t feel that way about him anymore, but Peter hated knowing that he hadn’t been the only letter, the only one who’d caught her eye. Stupid or not, he wanted to be the only one who held her attention, the only one she reminisced and giggled about. 

“Wait...Covey you didn’t DINE! There’s no dine and dash without the dine.” This girl, she wanted to be such a badass, but she was still a total goody goody at heart. 

“I mean, I drank the soda, and we didn’t pay for that.” She said it with a hopeful smile, clearly looking for his praise and hoping that her dastardly deed had earned her a few rebellious credits. How could he deny that sweet expression on her face, or the way she peeked up at him through those luscious fucking lashes. He watched her fidget with her hands, squirming in her seat a little and nervously biting her plump lip. 

“Whoa - we better watch out then. Maybe we should take the back way home in case Portland PD’s got an APB out on you.” And he glanced around like he was Jason fucking Bourne and they were on the lam. 

She laughed loudly and smiled up at him. God, he loved making her smile. “You won’t tell on me, will you?” She was so earnest and playful. Nothing like Gen.

“Naw, I got your back Covey.” And he repeated her ‘down low’ move from earlier with a wink thrown in for good measure. “But I’m never taking you to Senor Picante’s. I can promise you that. You probably have your picture up on the wall in there. Rule breaker.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and stood up from the booth. Grabbing her bag off the bench, she started to walk towards the exit of the Corner Cafe and he followed along. He reached around her to open the door, and as she passed through he could smell subtle hints of her perfume and shampoo - something floral and sweet this time. She looked back at him to say her usual thanks before they hit the parking lot.

“Well, they used to, but that was before I ripped it down the last time daddy took Kitty and me there for taco night.” She had such a mischievous look on her face. He loved when they played these games. 

With a chuckle, he opened the passenger door. “Whose the bad influence now, huh?” He replied and she just gave a little shrug and an upward glance in return. 

“Maybe it's a tie,” she responded as he buckled his own seatbelt. 

“Alright, a tie it is,” he said, and turned over the engine to take her back home. Whatever it was, good or bad, she’d definitely had an influence on him, of that much he was certain. And now that he’d had a taste, there was no going back.


	3. Question Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little inspiration drawn from the scene at Greg's party when Emily interrogates LJ about her 'activities' with Peter.
> 
> Told from PK's POV

“Hey, Peter, can I ask you something?” He looked up from his Chem notes. 

“Sure, Covey. What’s up?” Even though her hands were in her lap under the table, he could tell from the stiffness in her shoulders that she was wringing them, nervous. She picked up her latte and took a big gulp, clearly burning her mouth slightly, then coughed and spluttered. He reached across the small cafe table to pat her on the back. “Whoa, slow down, Lara Jean.” She pulled her hand away from her mouth and gave him a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “You good?” 

She cleared her throat again. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She really was worked up. What was she trying to tell him? God, did she want to end it? Had she realized she liked Sanderson after all? He fucking hoped not. He liked spending time with her and that would definitely go away if she got together with that hipster prick. He knew he had Gen waiting in the wings, but suddenly the thought of studying with her over coffee and pastries wasn’t nearly as appealing as it had been four weeks ago. 

“...at the party. Some of the girls, well Emily and Gen really, but they kept asking me if we’d done all these things and I…” She was whispering and he’d missed the first part of her question while he was worrying about the dick who lived next door. 

“Sorry, what was that? I didn’t hear the first part, Covey.” When she leaned across the table, he saw clearly that her eyes had widened and her cheeks were flushed. Obviously this was something she was anxious about, something private.

“Well, like I said, at Greg’s party...ahem...Emily and Gen and some of the other girls were talking on the couches and, well they were talking about me, not to me,” she rolled her eyes at that and he couldn’t agree more. He’d always hated all of Gen’s passive aggressive bullshit. “But they were using all these acronyms and then they started interrogating me and asking if we had…” Her words trailed off and she was biting her lip. He knew his eyes had gone straight to her mouth, which she could undoubtedly see, but it was just so hard to look away from the plumpness trapped between her teeth. 

“Wait, so were they asking if we’d had sex?” He thought he’d finally caught the drift of what she was saying, or not saying, really. 

“Well,” back to wringing her hands again, “I’m honestly not sure. It’s like they were using a code.” Her voice went up at the end in question and she scrunched up her face in contemplation. 

“So, what did they say exactly?” He really appreciated that guys didn’t beat around the bush and play all these fucking games. Greg and Trevor had bugged him about her, too. Of course they wanted to know if he’d hooked up with her. ‘Had she kept the miniskirt on? Was she quiet or loud? She seems like she’d be loud.’ He’d laughed it off and shut them down with an off hand remark about them being pervs, that he wasn’t going to ‘kiss and tell.’ Honestly, he wished he could answer those questions. It wasn’t like they weren’t ones he thought about himself dropping her at her front door at the end of the night or riding in the Jeep on the way to school. 

She broke into his thoughts again, her words hurried and hushed. “Oh my god. I can’t ask you this. Definitely not here. Let’s go.” And with that she swept all of her books up off the table, pulled her backpack over one shoulder, and started walking towards the door. She really was shaken up. Normally she’d at least wait for him. 

He grabbed his stuff and took a last swing of his iced coffee, then strode after her. “Covey, wait up!” He’d caught the door just as it was closing behind her and quickly followed her into the parking lot. Reaching around her for the door handle, he held it open for her and she climbed in without looking at him. Ok, well clearly he was going to have to approach cautiously if he was going to get anything else out of her. 

Climbing in his side of the car, he turned to face her, starting the car but not putting into drive. “Covey, you’re making me nervous here. What exactly did they say that has you so thrown?”

Finally she looked up at him and he could see the inner war she was fighting. She wanted to know, she couldn’t stand when he knew something that she didn’t, but to find out the answer she’d have to actually say the words out loud. 

She grunted and flailed her arms a bit like some kind of wild animal, exasperated. “Ok. Fine. Just tell me what they mean.” And she thrust a crumpled sheet of notebook paper at him.

He read through the list: H on B, H on C, H up and down on P, T on C.

Shit. He’d spent enough time messaging with Gen to know what she’d been talking about. Hell, he’d played out most of that list. And then some. But talking about it with Lara Jean was something else altogether, especially when they both knew whose experiences he’d be sharing. 

He blew out a breath and looked up at her. She was staring back at him expectantly. Understandably still anxious, but with resolve, too. Determined to get some answers. She cleared her throat and raised a brow, apparently ready for his response. 

“Ok, H on B, so that’s ‘hand on boob’.” He instinctively raised his right hand up in a palming gesture as he said it. Her eyes went straight to his hand when he did so and his went straight to her chest. She had great breasts. Obviously he hadn’t seen them up close or anything, but she filled out those sweater sets nicely and he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t enjoy it when she pressed up against him in the halls at school or when he leaned in to say goodbye on her front porch. 

“Ok. That makes sense.” Her tone wasn’t as shy or quiet as he’d expected it to be. “So, is C ‘cock’ then? Is that the next step, ‘hand on cock’?” It was his turn to cough and splutter now? Had she really just? What?!

“Jesus, Covey! You can’t just say ‘cock’ like that. Warn a guy!” He rubbed his hand over his face. Well that sound byte was going to live in his brain forever. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Gen use the word ‘cock’. Actually he’d never heard any girl say it...outside of porn that it is. And, it was hot. It was definitely fucking hot. 

“You were going to say it! And, I’m coming to you in my hour of need, ok. It’s not like this is easy for me to talk about either.” She was a little frustrated and grumpy sounding, kind of petulant and bossy. Like he wasn’t following directions, like he was taking too long. He didn’t hate that either.

“Fair point,” he replied quietly and quickly, “so, H on C, umm it’s actually not ‘cock’. Usually ‘clit’ or maybe ‘cunt’ depending on who you’re talking to. 

“Oh...” 

He wasn’t looking at her face, but he could hear in her voice that he’d caught her off guard with that one. 

“I didn’t, umm, think about that...that word.” Clearly hearing him talk about her genitalia...no, not her genitalia...female genitalia in general, was new and a little distracting for her, too. He knew she didn’t have any real experience, but she was friend’s with Chris, so she had to have heard some things over the years. And yet...

“So, if C is...clit…” she whispered the word and looked at his hands in his lap, “then P is…”

“Penis.” He didn’t leave her in suspense. She’d been so bold earlier when she’d said ‘cock’, but it seemed like her courage had died away as the conversation escalated. 

“That makes sense. ‘H up and down on P’...so that’s like a handjob right?” She was looking at him cautiously, looking for confirmation of her theory. He honestly couldn’t believe that they were even having this conversation. She did ask questions...a lot of questions...which is something he really liked about her, but usually her questions weren’t quite so explicit or, well, personal. He knew that she wasn’t asking him about what he had done or hadn’t done, yet anyway, but being the one to teach her this...well it made him feel a little vulnerable and weirdly proud, that she trusted him to tell her, and frankly hot as fuck. Pretty soon he was going to have a problem with his own ‘P’.

“Yeah, ‘H on P’ is a handjob.” He instinctively made a fist where his hand had rested on his leg. He wasn’t sure if she’d noticed, but she seemed to be in her own head again.

“So, the last one...T?” She was looking at him in earnest now. Her brow wasn’t furrowed. In fact, the way that she’d emphasized the ‘T’, he kind of felt like she already knew the answer and just wanted to hear him say it, which was definitely something that he was going to contemplate further later on.

“Yeah, ‘T’ for ‘tongue’. He watched her face as he said it, trying to gauge her reaction. She’d taken a big breath in through her nose and was nodding her head. Her hands were rubbing back and forth on her jean covered thighs. She’d glanced to the side, out the windshield, but then her eyes were back on him. 

“So, oral sex. That’s what you’re talking about. Tonguing her...clit.” She let the word hang in the air between them. Honestly, he’d heard a lot of people talk about going down on a girl before, but he’d never heard anyone describe it like that. And frankly, Covey’s words were bringing a whole new visual to his mind. He had to wipe his own palms on his jeans. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the windows in the jeep had fogged up a bit, too.

“Yeah. That’s it.” He honestly didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t quite read her right now and he really had no idea where they were headed with all this.

“Is that...I mean, obviously I know that a girl, a woman, would enjoy that. I’ve read books. I get the gist. But...do guys...do guys really want to do that?” She emphasized the last word and gestured, probably unconsciously, towards her lap. He knew this was supposed to be theoretical, but he couldn’t help but feel like she almost might have actually been asking him. 

“Well, yeah.” He had to think of a better word. Geez. She raised her brow like she didn’t believe him, so he went on. “It’s like, this primal urge, you know. You want to stake your claim and possess her in every way. And, supposedly, it’s like the easiest way to make her come, which is always endgame, so it’s a good strategy to choose.”

“Wait, supposedly? You mean, you haven’t? With Gen?” She was surprised. Honestly, he was a little, too. Not only that he and Gen hadn’t, but also that he was admitting that to Lara Jean.

“Well, no. I mean, we did...other things. I know that you know we’ve had sex, so I won’t even pretend like that wasn’t true. But everybody assumes we were just fucking 24/7 and we really weren’t. First of all, it’s pretty awkward when you do it the first few times, so until you get a good rhythm down…” Rhythm?! Well that couldn’t have been a more obvious choice of words. Though, she didn’t seem bothered by it. She was nodding along, attentive to what he was saying, waiting and really listening. “I mean, I’m good, you know, but, like I don’t know that I’m any kind of expert. Plus, there were always people around and parents and lacrosse and cheer and well, it’s not like we’re in college.” 

He didn’t want to brag. If it was anyone else, he’d play it up like he was some kind of Sex God. Fucking Brad Pitt or somebody. But, with her, in this moment, he felt kind of vulnerable, like they were sharing some truths here, and he just wanted to be honest. 

“That makes sense. I hadn’t really thought about it that way.” She gave him a small smile and the corner of her mouth lifted. He loved when she looked at him like that. It was like she was trying to share a secret with him, only him. 

Feeling like they’d reached some kind of resolution, he finally buckled his seat belt and turned back to the steering wheel, then quickly glanced back to see that she’d done the same before pulling out of the spot and heading for the road. 

“So Covey, what’s with all the sudden interest in hooking up? Was it just the party or…?”

She sighed. And he knew she was gazing out the window, debating what to say.

“I just. I know that this isn’t real. I know we’re just pretending. But sometimes, I wish we weren’t...”

Yes! Say it again, Covey! He didn’t know where she was going with this, but he was all in. No matter how it had all started, she was the one he wanted to spend time with now. Not Gen, not anyone else. Her. Lara Jean.

“I mean. I don’t know how to say this. It’s not that I want to date you. Well, I do, but...It’s just, all the time we’ve spent together, and all these new experiences, like the party, I finally realize how much I’ve missed out on. It’s not that I feel behind exactly, but, I feel like high school could have just been so much...more. If I hadn’t been so scared to try. Does that make sense?”

She’d finally looked at him and he wished he wasn’t driving after all. 

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Yes. I totally get that. And honestly, Covey, there’s nothing wrong with you at all. You’re so awesome. And, I love hanging out with you all the time. We’re just bringing you out of your shell, that’s all. New and improved Covey. A little bolder, a little braver. Dirty words and all.” He gave her a wink, too. What she’d said...she did want to date, for real, then she didn’t. He was still fucking confused, but it felt like this was headed in the right direction and the last thing he wanted was to fuck it up. So, light, flirtatious, that was his best strategy.

“You know Covey, if you want to amend our contract, we can throw out the ‘no kissing’ clause. I mean, if you really feel like you’re missing out.” He made sure to keep his tone casual. He was serious. He definitely wanted to kiss her again. But, if she wasn’t ready for that, then she could play it off like a joke and no harm, no foul. 

“I think that’s definitely a possibility.” She was grinning and flirting right back and inside he was doing his happy dance. Somehow, in the span of an hour, he’d gone from casually liking her to wanting it bad. And from now on, he was going to make it his mission to make sure she knew that.


	4. Question Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had started innocently enough. They were studying. Then they took a break. And then...well, neither of them had really seen any of it coming.
> 
> This one is told from both perspectives. LJ is first, and then PK. Hopefully that delineation is clear for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking forward to everyone's feedback. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS - There are small spoilers for the very first episode of Game of Thrones. Apologies if you haven’t seen it yet!

“Have you always liked school, Covey?” His question interrupted her musings on the Battle of Baltimore and she looked up from her US History notecards to see him watching her, his brow raised quizzically. 

“Well, yeah, I think so.” It wasn’t much of a reply, not exactly elegant, but she wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “I’ve always loved to read. It’s my solace. And Margo always emphasized how important our studies were and obviously dad sets the bar high, even though he isn’t really consciously pressuring us to do well. So...yes. I like to learn new things and school is important to me. And I can’t really think of a time when that wasn’t the case.”

He was still watching her, a small smile on his lips. He twirled his pen across his fingers. Peter was always fidgeting, always moving, like his body had trouble reining itself in. She smiled back, but only glanced up at him, then back at her notecards. 

“What about you, Kavinsky? Do you like school?” She kept her eyes to her books as she asked. She was genuinely curious what his answer would be. Classes were more challenging for Peter, so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was putting him on the spot or making him feel inferior. 

Glancing upwards, she could see him give a noncommittal shrug. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not a smarty pants like you, but it’s not so bad. Better this year than last, at least.”

“Why is that?” She asked in turn. Not something she’d expected him to say. She gave him her full attention now. He stretched his arms behind his head and scratched the back of his neck with his long fingers. 

“Well, Gen and I were all over the place last year and I never really knew where we stood, so, just managing our relationship took up a lot of time. And, I mean, she’s smart, but she doesn’t really want to work at it at all, so she didn’t really want to spend our free time studying.” 

He leaned back in his chair a bit more and let his eyes wander around the room as he talked, clearly letting his thoughts flow freely. Before they’d started fake dating, she never really realized what a sensitive person he was. He didn’t seem anxious at all about sharing his ideas with her or making himself vulnerable in her presence. She loved that they could “talk about real stuff,” as he’d put it. 

“And, it was like no matter how I did on a test, whether it was great or I totally bombed it, she’d just brush it off. Like we were supposed to be above grades or something.” He was looking at her again, his expression neutral, relaxed. “And, at the time, I mean, I just went along with it because she was right, like, I have lacrosse, so I don’t have to do as well, but now…” that I’m with you—he hadn’t said it, but her mind completed the thought that he’d let hang in the air. “Now that I see you studying and it’s just part of our routine, I just think maybe I should have cared more before. Like, it’s cool to be smart, you know? It’s fun to actually know things and be confident in class instead of having to nod along and spout out some BS and hope that no one else is going to notice that I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was talking about.”

She was trying to keep her tone casual and her face placid, but his words had her heart racing and legs feeling jittery. He thought she was smart. She made him care about school. She was cool. And even though he’d more so implied it than said it directly, he’d rather spend time with her than with Gen. Ahhhhhh!!!! 

“Yes, exactly. It’s like, knowing things is sort of like a security blanket. You can feel confident and secure because no matter what else is going on, at least you know what’s true and what’s not.” Her enthusiasm was probably coming through in her voice, so much for playing it cool. But honestly, it was hard to suppress that excitement, especially when he complimented her. She really couldn’t help it. 

And that was true. It’s why she put so much effort into her education. She knew it was objectively important that she do well in school now. It set her up for opportunities down the road, but it also provided a sense of relief. The classroom was her domain. She didn’t understand boys. She wasn’t athletic. She couldn’t sing or play an instrument. She certainly had no sway in the cafeteria..until recently. But, she was intelligent. Teachers liked her. The guidance counselor, Mrs. Miller, liked her. She didn’t have to fret, too much anyway, that when she got her paper back, it was going to be covered in red ink. 

“Yes! Totally! ‘I drink and I know things.’ Tyrion Lannister totally knows his shit.” He was grinning and animated now, leaning across the kitchen table towards her, gesturing with his hands. 

“Wait, what?” Right now, she didn’t know things. “Who is Tyrion Lannister? Oh my god! Is he on our US History midterm. I don’t have a notecard for him.” She’d had a sudden moment of panic and was flipping to the index of her textbook. Lannister...it sounded British. Maybe he was a lesser known lord from the War of 1812. 

“C’mon, Covey!” He was guffawing loudly now and his expression showed both amusement and shock. “Tyrion Lannister? Game of Thrones? HBO?”

She gaped like a fish and raised her hands. “I don’t…”

She didn’t get to finish the thought because he’d scooped up her carefully arranged notecards and closed the textbook. 

“Ok. Study break. I can’t believe you haven’t seen Game of Thrones?! It’s like, an institution.” He’d gotten up out of his chair and come around to her side of the table, pulling out her own and then placing his hands on her shoulders to guide her to the couch in his living room. 

His hands gently clasped around her upper arms, his body close to hers as he walked behind her. This was something she could get used to. They always touched at school. They had to maintain the facade. But, more and more they’d both found moments and ways to touch one another when they were alone, too. Nothing too forward, but a brush of the fingertips across her arm or his hand placed low on her back, a gentle pressure. Her knee brushing against his thigh as they studied or sat next to one another at the Cafe. Leaning into his side or his chest as they walked to her house. She knew that Peter was a touchy feely kind of guy. He was physical with everyone, but she certainly was not. And lately, she initiated contact as often as he did. Her body sought his almost unconsciously. Damn his chiseled good looks and bright, welcoming personality. And right now, as she sat next to him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, her feet tucked up next to her, her body leaning into his side, she had trouble convincing herself that this wasn’t something more, too. 

“Oh, I should have checked first. The show’s kind of known for being explicit - like naked people and blood, the works. Is that ok?” He turned his head to look at her, the arm holding the remote balancing on his left knee. 

“Umm yeah, yeah that’s fine.” Her voice was soft and a little squeaky. Not at all mature or confident sounding. Once again, she did not seem like a person who ‘knew things’. But it was true. She usually enjoyed her smut in the privacy of her own room. Reading was a solitary activity and it gave her plenty of time to let her mind wander, manipulating the words and images they created in whatever way she so chose. It’s not like she hadn’t watched porn before or seen some sexual thriller on TV; she was friends with Chris for goodness sake. She’d seen naked people. But, she had not seen naked people with a boy in the room. Probably not even with a boy in the house. She hadn’t explored those storylines yet when she and Josh were still attached at the hip. And, the way she felt about Peter, the way she looked at Peter, was certainly not the way she’d felt about Josh. 

“Ok great.” He looked back to the television and queued up the episode. “If you get anxious, just let me know and I can shut it off or hide your eyes or something, ok?” He gave her a small smile and a wink. He was teasing her, but she knew him well enough now to know that he really meant it. He was a protective person, and he wouldn’t knowingly put her in a situation that made her uncomfortable or upset. He’d look out for her. 

————————————————————————

He couldn’t believe she’d never seen Game of Thrones. She really was an 80 year old woman. All of her pop culture references were at least 20 years old. But, on the bright side, that meant this was another first that he could share with her. And that, he found, was one of his new favorite things. He loved the way her eyes got all big and round and she blushed or grinned like a maniac. And knowing that he put that smile on her face, well he couldn’t help but grin right back.

As they watched the ranger stumble upon the bodies of the wildlings, he could feel her tensing a bit and instinctively snuggling closer to him, turning her head slightly. He’d forgotten what a gory intro the series had and he knew that horror wasn’t exactly her cup of tea. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea.

“Sorry, Covey, I forgot that the beginning was pretty zombie heavy.” She was completely tucked into his side now and had grabbed the throw blanket off the side of the couch and brought it up to her chin. 

She jumped a little when one of the whites showed up out of the blue. “That’s ok,” she squeaked, “just maybe hold me a little tighter and promise you won’t laugh if I close my eyes.” Hold her tighter? That he could definitely do.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied and brought his arm down off the back of the couch to wrap around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze in solidarity. Gen had actually liked scary movies, so he wasn't immediately prepared for Lara Jean’s reaction. Though admittedly, he and Gen had stopped actually watching the movies after they’d turned 14 and pretty much just hooked up instead, so, he wasn’t sure he could really judge her interest in them either.

“Eeeh!” She made a little noise and glancing down over his shoulder he could see her squeezing her eyes shut. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“It’s actually almost done.”

She peeked up at him, not checking the screen yet. “Oh, ok. Great. What’s this about again?”

He wanted her to like it and to trust him and his choices, so he knew he’d have to pitch the show well. “So, it’s about this place called Westeros, which is basically like medieval England, and the different families that are vying for power there--”

“‘Vying’, good word choice.” She interrupted him and nudged his ribs.

“Hey, give me some credit, Covey. I mean, I can read, you know.” He teased back and knocked her knee with his. “So, yeah, the two main families are the Starks from the North and the Lannisters from the West. And they just kind of have a different outlook on how things should be run. But the characterization is awesome. And they never do what you’d expect which is different and seriously cool. It’s intense.” 

“Well, that seems harmless enough. So, no more zombies?” She giggled a little and scrunched up her nose. Her expressions were so fucking adorable. 

“No more zombies, at least not this episode. Pinky promise.” And he brought his left hand over to her, pinky extended. She removed her left arm from underneath the blanket and wrapped her pinky around his.

“Alright. I trust you.” She looked directly into his eyes as she said it, and the soft tone of her voice made it seem like she wasn’t just talking about the show.

The theme music wrapped up and they both went back to watching the character introductions. When she’d settled back in, she’d draped the blanket over both of them, and even though they’d watched movies and snuggled before, somehow being tucked under the covers together, it just felt more intimate, more real. He could feel where their legs were pressed up against one another, where her fingers brushed gently along his abs when she wiggled in her seat, how her chest expanded and her shoulders lifted slightly when she took a deep breath. He could smell her hair--coconut shampoo today. She always smelled so good--sweet, sometimes a little floral, but always this light scent that was just Lara Jean. When he hadn’t seen her for a day or two, it was the first thing he noticed when they met up again. And he was certain that the way they were pressed tightly together right now, it’d linger on his clothes long after he dropped her at home tonight.

More and more, things like that stayed with him. The way she smelled. The sound of her laughter. What she looked like sitting at his kitchen table. How it felt to have her pressed up against him like she was right now. He didn’t want to let go of any of it. He wanted to keep her, all of her. He wanted it to be real. No more of this pretend bullshit. Just call a spade a fucking spade and say how he felt. But, he knew that she was cautious. He also knew she was attracted to him. And, that she had really started to let down her guard. But, that didn’t mean he should just rush right in. He needed a strategy. He needed to be smart about this or he was going to scare her off.

“Is she?” He hadn’t been paying close attention to the show, just focused on her, so he didn’t realize what part they were actually at until…

“Yeah, that’s, she was definitely just giving him a blowjob, right? And now, ok, you weren’t kidding about the nudity.” She chuckled nervously and out of the corner of his eye he could see her opening and closing her mouth. Ros’s breasts were there on screen for all to see. Suddenly he was feeling a little heated.

He cleared his throat. “Uh yeah, like I said, there’s a lot of that. I think they actually call it ‘sexposition’ because characters keep having conversations and going over these plot points and there are just people doing it that whole time. If it’s...I mean, we don’t have to watch it, Covey, if it’s, you know, weird.” He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. Frankly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about watching it with her now that they were actually staring at Peter Dinklage and not one, but four naked women together on screen.

“Umm, I mean. Yeah, it’s a little...odd, maybe, but we’re mature, almost adults, right?” She didn’t sound confident when she said it. It was definitely more of a question than a statement, so it looked like the ball was in his court.

BANG.

“Peter!” Shit. His mom was home. If he thought it was awkward watching a sex scene with his fake girlfriend, he could only imagine the mortification that would ensue if his mom caught him watching a sex scene with Lara Jean. He quickly turned off the TV and jumped up from the couch just as his mom was walking into the kitchen.

“Could you unpack the groceries for me? I’m going to run over to Mike’s house to pick Owen up...oh, hi Lara Jean! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here, too.”

Lara Jean had stood up from the couch too and was folding the blanket neatly and placing it back on the sofa, grinning at his mom all the while. “Hello, Mrs. Kavinsky. It’s nice to see you, too. Peter and I were just taking a break from studying for our US History midterm.”

He could tell that his mom liked her. Honestly, what wasn’t there to like. Gen had always been a little too sweet, clearly faking it, and his mom wasn’t a stupid person. She’d never liked that they’d been so serious at such a young age. So, it was apparent, in her tone, her body language, that she was genuinely happy to see Lara Jean here instead of someone else. 

“Yeah, of course mom. Happy to help.” He’d moved to the kitchen island to start unpacking the groceries and moving them to their proper locations. He noticed that Lara Jean had cleaned up their books and notecards and backpacks at the kitchen table and started unloading items into the pantry.

“Thanks, you two! I’ll be back in about thirty minutes and then I’ll get dinner on. You’re welcome to stay, as always, Lara Jean.” 

“That’s very thoughtful, Mrs. Kavinsky, I really appreciate the offer.” She replied. And then his mom headed back out the door. 

“Thanks for helping.” She smiled up at him and reached for the jars of marinara sauce.

“It’s not a big deal at all, Peter. Your mom seems really nice. And I’m happy to pitch in.” And that’s the thing. He knew that she really meant that. She wasn’t trying to butter his mom up or put on some kind of act. She was genuinely just a kind person who enjoyed helping others and alleviating their burdens, however big or small.

“It is a big deal, Covey. She really likes you. And she really appreciates stuff like that.” He’d moved over to put away the cold foods, so he couldn’t see her anymore since he was buried in the fridge. “I’m gone half the time anyway between lacrosse and my friends and…” He was going to say ‘you,’ but he didn’t want her to feel like she’d caused a problem.

“Me.” He stood up tall when she said it, catching her eyes from across the island.

“Yeah. But, honestly, it’s not a bad thing. I want to spend time with you and you’ve been good for me. I mean, we actually studied today. In the afternoon. Not the middle of the night. Not after I spent two hours blowing shit up on Fortnite. And, the midterm is like a week away still. Do you know the last time I actually studied sooner than the night before the test?” She was giving him that secret smile again, hiding in the corner of her mouth, and looking at him through her lashes. There was a little flush on her cheeks, too. “It was never. And, well, mom sees that. My coach actually emailed her last week to tell her what a good report he’d gotten from my teachers the last few weeks. Usually they’re hounding her about getting all my work turned in, but I’m actually on my game right now. And that’s definitely down to you…” He’d walked over to her as he spoke and now he was standing right in front of her, her back to the counter. He brushed the hair behind her ear. He noticed again that she wore it down today. The way he liked it. “My smarty pants fake girlfriend…” She met his eyes again and wet her lips. She took in a big breath, noticeable, and when she exhaled he felt it brush across his face. And then he didn’t even think, he just kissed her.

His right hand cupped the side of her face and his left gripped the countertop next to her as he stepped into her body. She was still for a moment, and he started to think he’d screwed up, read the signs wrong...then she fisted her hands in his shirt and opened her mouth to deepen their kiss. He groaned in response and moved his hand into her hair, gripping tightly. Her lips were plush and moved steadily over his own, her tongue massaging his, somewhat hesitantly at first, like she was tasting him, and god was she fucking delicious. A little spicy from the chai she’d had earlier, but sweet too like the caramel crunch cookies she’d made him earlier this week. 

He moved his hand off the counter and pressed his palm against her lower back trying to get closer. Her right hand snaked up his neck and scratched the back of his head, threading her fingers into his hair. In between kisses her breaths came out in small pants and moans and he felt her hips shift unconsciously and grind against his thigh. It felt good, so fucking good. So much more intense than the first few kisses they’d shared and definitely better than what he’d imagined. He didn’t know how far he could push this, but he didn’t want to stop. Not now. Not ever. 

He shifted the hand that had been on her back around to her side stroking his fingers along her rib cage. His kisses moved slowly along her jaw towards her right ear. 

“You have no idea how much I want you, Covey. How long I’ve fucking wanted this.” He whispered it huskily, the register of his voice dropping with his arousal. 

He nibbled her earlobe and nuzzled his nose behind the curve of her ear and she exhaled loudly, her breath lost. He held her ribs more tightly, his thumb grazing just under her breasts, his hand warmed by her skin through her thin blouse. His kisses traveled lower and he nipped at her neck, sucking and biting gently listening for another moan and reveling in her touch. 

“So, for dinner I was thinking frozen pizzas and a Caesar salad.”

The voice came from the hallway. It wasn’t loud or close just yet, but it shocked his system all the same. He broke away from Lara Jean as quickly as he could, adjusting his pants in the process and stepped back towards the refrigerator, hoping the cool air would calm his senses and by him some time. When he heard his mom come into the room, he looked overtop the door, a carton of OJ clutched in his hand. “Sounds great mom, whatever you want.”

She smiled at him in return. “Ok, perfect. Lara Jean, are you going to stay for supper?”

Somehow, he’d forgotten she was still in his kitchen, jarred by what had just happened between them and then startled by his mom’s sudden entrance. 

“Actually, I think I should probably head home for tonight. But I’d love to have supper with you all this weekend. Thanks again for the invitation, Mrs. Kavinsky.” She didn’t want to stay. Was she just embarrassed? Had she regretted what happened between them? Had he been too aggressive? Shit. He hoped he hadn’t totally blown it. 

“Of course, dear. Anytime. Peter, I’ll go ahead and start everything while you run Lara Jean home. Say hi to your dad for me!”

“I will. And thank you again.” She was gathering up her backpack and her cardigan and had headed towards the front door. Stupidly, he followed behind her without saying a word. Maybe he should just let her take the lead. They walked to his car in awkward silence and he opened the door for her like he always did. He gave her a small smile once she was seated, and she seemed to return it, but for once, her face didn’t give much away. 

Climbing into his own seat and starting the engine, he couldn’t take much more. “Alright Covey, you gotta tell me what you’re thinking right now because the silence is killing me.”

He hadn’t even had a chance to really look at her, but when she burst out laughing he knew they were going to be just fine. 

“Peter! Oh my god. Your mom just walked in on us making out, hardcore making out in your kitchen. And she almost caught us watching...well soft core porn.” She had her hands on the sides of her face and her eyes were wide with disbelief. “I don’t even know what happened.” She snorted a little and then just kept going. “I mean...we were just studying. We were studying and chatting and then we were watching the show and I just couldn’t stop touching you. It was like...magnetic.”

He knew that she was processing out loud and would probably be a little embarrassed afterwards when she realized all she’d admitted, but he was thrilled to actually hear her thoughts. Her full thoughts, uncensored. 

“I just. It was all I could think about. And you’re just so beautiful. And then you just kissed me. I never thought you’d kiss me. Why would you? I’m just...me.” He had to cut her off there because the idea that she was anything less than fucking perfect was frankly just absurd. 

“Covey, are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you? Since you kissed me. That’s how long. Every day we were together I wanted to kiss you. Every single fucking day.” He made a point to look at her again so she knew he meant it. She was staring at him, clearly not having expected that response. 

“Stop the car.” She said it matter of factly and he hit the brakes instinctively even though they were in the middle of the road. Thankfully the street was empty. “Peter Kavinsky, do you like me for real?”

He kept his left hand on the wheel and turning towards her, reached up with his right hand to tuck her hair behind her ear again, letting his thumb graze down her jawline afterwards. “Yes, Lara Jean Covey. I like you for real.”

And in that moment her face split into the most perfect, beautiful grin, lips stretched ear to ear, eyes crinkled affectionately at the corners. 

“Pull over right now.” She really was bossy. Something he found he minded much less than he thought he would. 

He followed her direction and parked on the side of the road underneath a large oak tree. The street was still fairly quiet since it was supper time and they were tucked into a corner of her neighborhood. 

As soon as he killed the engine, she reached across the console and grabbed onto his shirt again—apparently it was becoming a theme—then pulled him into her and kissed him hard on the mouth. Their teeth bumped together a bit in her eagerness and his surprise, but they recovered pretty directly and he was ready to pull her over into his lap when she broke off abruptly, let out a huge breath, then reached for the door handle. Before he could catch up she was closing it behind her and leaning back into the window.

“You were right, Peter, it does feel good to ‘know things’.” Then she smirked at him. “Pick me up in the morning?” He nodded back at her, clearly unable to form complete sentences. And she turned around and jogged down the street, apparently set to run the rest of the way home. 

He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to awaken from what clearly had to be a dream. Lara Jean Covey knew he liked her. She had kissed him. Herself. She had teased him and flirted, definitely. She wanted to do this, for real. If he knew nothing else, in that moment, he knew he was one of the luckiest guys on the whole fucking planet. And he turned the Jeep around and drove home secure in that knowledge.


End file.
